


If I Should Lose You Now

by Sokaless



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky is sort of an avenger but not really, M/M, Memory Loss, not AOU compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokaless/pseuds/Sokaless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>According to the reports, he calls himself the Memory Thief.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>As far as supervillian names go, that's not so terrible. Bucky has definitely heard worse.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>On a routine mission with the Avengers, Bucky gets in way over his head, Steve makes a bad decision and they both end up losing something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Should Lose You Now

**Author's Note:**

> I spent way too long writing this for it to only be like five thousand words but whatever, I'm happy with it. Thanks skyguyandsnips for agreeing to edit this!!

 

According to the reports, he calls himself the Memory Thief.

As far as supervillain names go, that's not so terrible. Bucky has definitely heard worse. At least it's not 'Red Skull.'

He picks up a photo of the guy off the table and frowns. A young man—maybe in his early twenties—the Memory Thief is thin and wiry, with short, blonde hair sticking up all over the place. He doesn't look threatening enough to be the kid who's caused so much chaos over the last few weeks, but Bucky learned a long time ago not to underestimate the little guys.

"We're sure this is him?" he asks the Avengers, and, as has been the norm since he first came to Avengers Tower, they all stare at him for a moment before anyone replies. Steve says it's because they're still not used to him speaking out loud. Bucky thinks they're still a little intimidated about working with a former HYDRA assassin.

"Yeah," Bruce replies at last, adjusting his glasses. "Eric Carson is his real name. Nobody knows what happened to him, not even his own family. They think he got entangled in some HYDRA experiments that failed. Whatever they did, it changed some systems in his body, and now the only things that can sustain him are memories—happy ones. His body devours them like food, and now he's ruining lives so that he doesn't starve."

"How do we take him in without anyone getting hurt?" asks Steve from beside Bucky. They're all sitting in the Avenger's Tower lounge, because the Avengers are idiots who think an open living space is the best place to have a mission briefing. But Bucky hasn't been here long enough to voice an opinion on that sort of thing—he's not even officially on the team, the Avengers have just employed the keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer tactic on him.

It's not so bad, really. He's helping people, not hurting them; and if he wanted to leave, he thinks Steve would let him. Here, there's no one trying to force him to do anything, and that automatically makes it better than HYDRA.

"It doesn't look like our thief can do any damage from a distance," says Stark, looking up from his tablet. "I guess his power is the hands-on kind. Just don't let him touch you, and you should be fine."

"Easy for you to say," says Clint, glancing pointedly the Iron Man suit, which stands empty against one wall, waiting for use.

Stark raises his eyebrows. "Are you telling me you're worried about playing tag with a kid who looks like a strong breeze could blow him over?"

"Tony," Steve jumps in before Clint can retaliate with something worse, "do we have a location on the thief yet?"

Stark taps his tablet again. "Orlando, Florida." He heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Florida. In August. Alright, let's get this over with."

"You sure you want to come along on this one?" Steve asks Bucky as the Avengers disperse to get suited up. He picks his shield up from where it was leaning on the back of the couch, then begins checking over his gear.

Bucky frowns. "What's wrong with Florida in August?" He thinks he's been to Florida before, a long time ago, and he doesn't remember there being anything wrong with it then. Of course, coming from him, that doesn't mean a whole lot these days.

"I'm more worried about the enemy than the location," Steve says, straightening up. "You don't think the Memory Thief is gonna be a problem for you?"

Is Steve actually doubting his ability to take down a kid half his size? Bucky is about to take offence before he realizes Steve is thinking of his past experiences with memory loss. He hadn't even considered that this guy might bring up some ugly reminders.

Though more than anything, Eric Carson is reminding him of Steve before the war, and Bucky had lots of experience dealing with _him_. He'll be fine.

"I think that out of the two of us, you're more likely to have a hard time with this," he says, just to watch Steve narrow his eyes. "Hands-on fighting has always been your style. What're you gonna do, now that you can't touch the guy?"

Steve gives him a familiar look of fond exasperation, like he does every time Bucky makes some attempt at humour. "I'm sure I'll think of something," he says, amused and Bucky glances away, smiling.

This, joking with Steve, fighting with Steve, _being_ with Steve, is Bucky's favourite part of working with the Avengers. He'd missed Steve like he'd missed his freedom all those years under HYDRA: Constantly and unknowingly, a wound he was never aware existed. It had sat dormant in the back of his mind for years and when he finally broke away from HYDRA, the pain of realizing what he'd lost for so long had damn near broken him.

He'd picked himself up, though, and eventually, after disposing of a few key HYDRA members and locations, he'd let Steve find him and bring him in. Even now, Bucky's not 100% better, but the thing about living and working with the Avengers is that he's coming to realize that everyone here has too many problems of their own to judge him for his.

He may never get all his memories back, but he's making his peace with that. As long as he's got Steve to be his walking reminder, he’ll be okay.

* * *

 

The Avengers have a super high-tech jet, because Tony Stark is a billionaire who's thrown way too much money at this whole Avengers thing. Bucky can't complain though, because this jet, while incredibly fast, has enough space that they all aren't tripping over each other. He sits near the back, watching as the team prepares for the mission. Stark is up front with Clint, and Bucky is willing to bet they're continuing their argument from earlier. Natasha is talking quietly with Doctor Banner, Thor is texting Jane, and Steve is headed Bucky's way.

Bucky casts a critical eye over him, eyes sharp even in the dim lighting of the plane. "The uniform looks different," he notes. "Did Stark change the colour scheme again? Come on, Steve, this has gotta be, like, the fifth time."

"Actually, it was my idea," Steve says, sitting down beside him. "The red, white and blue tends to stand out a lot, so toning down the red and white seemed like the best way to go."

"How unpatriotic of you," Bucky tells him, although he agrees. He's seen the footage of New York, and seriously, whoever decided to dress Steve like a comic book superhero was a moron. That helmet was more terrifying than the aliens.

"Yeah, haven't heard that one before," says Steve, but he's smiling. "And you're a fine one to talk about uniform changes, Bucky—the only time you've altered your gear was to add more guns and more black."

Bucky really doesn't see anything wrong with that. "You could stand to carry a few more guns yourself. I can't believe you think a shield is enough to fight with nowadays, you're gonna get yourself killed."

"You have enough firepower for both of us," Steve replies. "If I need a gun, I'll just borrow yours."

Bucky fights the urge to roll his eyes, because somehow Steve has managed to become even _more_ reckless since the war. His best friend is an still adrenaline junkie, that much hasn't changed, and Bucky has been roped into following him again.

As it turns out, ' _with_ _you till the end of the line,_ ' also means, ' _with you out of airplanes without a parachute oh my god you stupid man what are you doing_.'

"What is it?" Steve asks, and Bucky realizes he's been staring. Hastily, he rearranges his expression into something a little less **…** _telling._ It's a thing he has to do a lot around Steve these days—even when he's exasperated with the guy, he manages to stare at him so blatantly it makes even Captain Oblivious suspicious.

Bucky is the Winter Soldier. He is not blatant, he is not obvious—he is stealthy, he is stone cold and deadly, he is—

So far gone for Steve Rogers.

Of _course_ those memories from the war were among the first to come back. Bucky just can't catch a break.

There's a change in pressure that signals that the jet is descending and Bucky quickly stands so he won't have to respond to Steve. Maybe one day they'll have that conversation, but right now?

Right now they have a thief to catch.

* * *

 

It doesn't take long to figure out why Stark has a problem with Florida in August—it's about a hundred degrees and the humidity is suffocating. Can a metal arm melt in weather like this? It certainly feels like it might. Of course, Bucky will take the near unbearable heat over icy alps any day, but this kind of weather just can't be safe to live in.

When this is over, he's going to take a vacation to Canada.

"Anyone got an eye on Carson?" Clint asks through the comms. He sounds as hot as Bucky feels and Bucky doesn't envy him, high up on the rooftops where there's no shelter from the relentless sun.

"Our intel says he's living on the streets downtown," says Stark from the air. "Makes sense, the more people around him, the better."

"If he's looking for happy memories, he should really try Disney World," deadpans Natasha, who's sweeping the other end of downtown Orlando. "All he's going to find around here are underpaid college students."

Some of Bucky's best memories were as an underpaid college student (he thinks), but he's still not comfortable making small talk on the comms, so he stays quiet and continues his search through the side streets. He's coming up on a block of warehouses now, all of them with fading paint and broken doors.

If Bucky were a hungry street thief, where would he be hiding? Old warehouses, rarely used? Just a few quick steps from a plethora of victims?

_Check._

He moves forward cautiously, one hand on his gun. It tends to make people nervous when he walks down the streets in full uniform (the public doesn't yet trust him like they do Steve or Stark) so today he's wearing jeans and a jacket to cover up as much of him as possible from the Memory Thief's starving touch. He's lived through a lot worse, but _damn_ , it's hot out.

Brushing his hair out of his face, Bucky steps into warehouse #1. It's near empty, no place for anyone to hide. Warehouse #2 is filled with boxes and machinery and a whole lot of junk. Bucky reallydoesn't have time to go dumpster diving for thieves, but he's got a feeling about the warehouse district. Call it instinct.

He's just about to go inside when he hears it. A faint clang, coming from the fourth warehouse on the block. A regular person might not have heard it, but Bucky has been on high alert since they first landed in Orlando, and to him it was as loud and clear as a bell.

He draws his gun and makes his way towards warehouse #4.

Later, Bucky might blame it on the heat. Or maybe the fact that it took a second or two for his eyes to adjust to the near-total darkness of warehouse #4. Either way, he should have seen it coming, but by the time he does, it's too late.

"Well, hello there," murmurs a voice from the darkness. The door slams behind him and Bucky spins around, but before he can do anything else, there's a cold hand on the back of his neck.

He's read somewhere that spiders paralyse their victims before they kill them. It seems like the Memory Thief can do the same thing, because an icy feeling creeps through his body and suddenly Bucky can't move.

He can handle a lot of things—pain, isolation, you name it—but he _hates_ having control over his actions taken away from him. Forget bringing in the kid for justice, Bucky is going to _kill_ him.

"Barnes, right?" says Eric Carson softly, trailing a hand down Bucky's left arm, to the metal fingers. "I was wondering when the Avengers would show up. I've been… quite eager to see what they have in store for me."

For some reason, Bucky doesn't think he's referring to his impending prison sentence.

The Memory Thief steps away to switch on a lantern, but leaving Bucky to struggle to free himself. It's like Carson's touch has a freezing agent in it, and this was definitely not mentioned at the briefing.

_Just don't let him touch you and you should be fine._

Thanks, Stark. Very helpful.

Eric picks up the lantern, then walks around Bucky until they're standing face to face. He's discovered he still has some control from the neck up, and so he tries his best to glare at the kid, who's staring at him intensely.

"I've done some reading on you, after you went public with your story," continues the Memory Thief. "You've certainly lived a life, haven't you? All those years, all those memories…"

And at that, Bucky stills.

Eric Carson survives solely off of good memories, happy ones, and, well, Bucky doesn't _have_ many. Eric probably assumes that a guy born over ninety years ago would have a lot of memories, but he doesn't. He has war and destruction and murder, but the Memory Thief doesn't want that. He wants laughter and joy and—

 _Steve_.

Even Bucky, with all the patches and holes in his mind, knows that most of his best memories are of Steve. From childhood to the battlefield, Steve has been a constant _good thing_ in his life, a light in the dark. And now, this kid is going to take him away all over again and he doesn't know if either he or Steve are strong enough to handle that.

He can't lose it all again. Not now, not when he's fought so hard to get everything back.

Bucky starts to struggle in earnest again, but his limbs just aren't cooperating with him, the ice still thick in his veins. His body is starting to react to the remembered stress of having no control over his actions and he can feel his heartbeat speeding up, his chest tightening, his flesh palm sweating. "Don't," he rasps out, fighting to make his vocal cords work, and the lantern flickers between them.

"I'm sorry, you know," whispers Eric. His face is half shadows, half remorse, but his eyes hold a glint of something darker, wilder. "I'm just so _hungry._ Everyone else—they don't have enough. There's never enough. This world we live in—it's a terrible place."

Bucky knows this more than most, and he wonders what the Memory Thief will do with him once he discovers that Bucky doesn't have enough happy memories either. He doesn't have enough memories, period.

"Don't worry," Eric assures him. "It won't hurt at all." He reaches up to touch his face, and Bucky jerks his head away, to no avail. The cool fingers twitch against his cheek, the smallest of movements, and then there are fingers on his brain.

It's as if Eric has reached inside his mind and is rifling through his memories, looking for the tastiest ones to steal away. It's not the mind wipe, it's not as painful, but it's as bad in every way, as violating in every way. He can feel the phantom tendrils of electricity, the agony of the wipe as Eric dredges up memories from his past. On some level, Bucky's aware that he's shaking almost violently and he feels so nauseous he's worried he might be sick.

 _Steve was right,_ he thinks wildly _, I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have_ —

The door to the warehouse explodes off its hinges.

It blows by Bucky and Eric, landing somewhere behind them with a loud crash. The Memory Thief yells in surprise, the invisible fingers are withdrawn from his brain and Bucky inhales deeply and tries very hard not to pass out where he stands.

"Let him go, or you go in the ground," says Steve from the doorway. He sounds more deadly than Bucky has heard in a long time and he can't help but slump down in relief. He must have been off the grid long enough for Steve to get worried and come looking for him. For once, he doesn't care that Steve is still keeping an eye on him because that was _way_ too close.

"Good timing," he mumbles and Steve lets out a breath that lets Bucky know he was fearing the worst. He can see Steve taking in the scene, from Bucky's frozen stance to the Memory Thief, standing far too close, and watches understanding dawn on Steve's face as he understands what's happened to him.

"Captain America," Eric breathes, and his eyes go wide and calculating. Bucky has to hand it to him, the kid is fast, because one second he's in front of Bucky, holding the lantern, the next, the lantern's on the floor and he's using Bucky as a human shield with Bucky's own gun pressed against his head.

Steve's expression shuts down.

"You don't want to do that," he says, taking a step forward. He's got his shield, but he _never carries a gun these days_ and Bucky doesn't think the shield can stop a bullet fired 0.1 millimetres from his head. He is loaning Steve at least four of his guns when they get out of this because his hit-things-until-they-fall-over strategy isn't gonna fly here.

Eric sighs. "You're right," he admits, "I don't. But, to be perfectly honest—he's expendable to me. I've been in his head—he doesn't have enough good memories to substitute for a lollipop." He nudges the gun against Bucky's head, bitterness seeping into his calm tone. "What a disappointment. I was expecting so much more."

"I've got some memory loss, but I'm not deaf, " Bucky snaps. "Steve, if you're gonna do something, maybe do it before he puts a bullet in me?"

Steve takes another step forward. Eric laughs a little, taps a finger on the trigger and he halts again, eyes narrowing at the Memory Thief. Eric is little, it would be easy to take him down, but he's also smart. By using Bucky as a shield, he's guaranteed himself total protection because Steve has never made smart decisions when it comes to saving Bucky and right now, he won't risk Bucky's safety to capture the kid.

Bucky doesn't know whether to be relieved or exasperated.

"What do you want?" Steve asks warily and Eric's laughter turns delighted. He has both of them right where he wants them and he knows it.

"Here's how this is going to play out, Captain," he says. "Your friend here doesn't have what I want. There's just not enough of him in there. But I'm quite hungry, and your mind sounds delicious. All those years in the spotlight—it's exactly what I need. So you are going to take his place, let me walk out of here, and I will let you both live."

Steve doesn't say yes. But he doesn't say no either. He seems to be _thinking_ about Eric's proposal, and _no,_ that's not okay.

"Steve, don't you _dare_ ," Bucky warns, swallowing down the panic in his tone. "Don't even think about it, you got that?"

Steve ignores him. "You really think you can get close enough to me to steal my memories before I take you out?" he asks Eric, deceptively calm.

Eric seems to be considering this. Then he lowers the gun and shoots Bucky in the arm—and there might be ice in his veins, but he can still feel and that _hurt._ The bullet missed everything vital, but a bullet wound is a bullet wound and Bucky bites his lip, hard, to keep from crying out. Steve jerks like he's the one who's been shot.

"I don't want to have to do that again," Eric says to Steve, sounding apologetic. "Please, this will be easier if you just lay down your shield and come here."

Steve looks torn. He glances at Bucky, then back to Eric, then at the gun being held to Bucky's head and that's it, Bucky is in love with an _idiot._

"Don't do it," he warns again and Steve closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his gaze turns to Bucky, and Bucky can see in his expression what he's going to do a second before he drops his shield to the floor.

Steve has always been the self sacrificing type. Bucky knows this, has known this since they were kids. He considers it a flaw, the kind that makes Steve _Steve_. When they were younger, he'd always been trying to get Steve to be a little more selfish ( _"You don't need to be the neighbourhood hero, Steve! Let someone else do the punching once in a while!"_ ) but now, watching Steve walk toward him, he wishes he had tried a little harder.

"You okay?" Steve asks quietly when he's face to face with Bucky. Bucky levels a glare at him.

"Am I—what the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Your life versus my memories?" Steve attempts a nonchalant smile. It makes Bucky want to hit him. "It wasn't a hard choice. I just got you back from the dead."

"Yeah, and now _I_ get to lose you again." Bucky tests his limbs once more, still no movement. Desperation is climbing in his chest. "Steve," he says, and he's shaking once more, " _you will not remember me_. I hardly remember myself, how—"

He cuts himself off there, because the words ' _how am I going to do this without you'_ don't need to cross his lips.

"Do we have a deal, Captain?" asks Eric softly, extending a pale hand for Steve to shake. "No sudden moves, please, or he dies." Steve's gloves are the fingerless kind, which means if he shakes Eric's hand, that's it. There will be no going back.

Steve doesn't takehis eyes off of Bucky even as he reaches for Eric's hand. _No, no, no, no, no,_ Bucky thinks, but he just stares back at Steve with numb horror. Steve is really going to do this, he realizes. After all they went through to get Bucky back, Steve is letting himself go the same way.

"Buck," Steve says, low and determined, "you've gotta remember for both of us. From now on, that's on you."

Bucky wants to hate him. He wants to yell at him and point out all the reasons why he just isn't worth this, but he also knows Steve sees him as worth it. And there's still cold steel pressed against his temple, and so all Bucky can do is nod, a slow, jerky movement. Steve looks down for a moment, then back up again.

"Okay," he says, exhaling. Then he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, says, "Well, before I forget," and slowly, carefully as to not spook Eric, Steve takes a small step towards Bucky and kisses him.

Bucky's world grinds to a screeching halt.

_What?_

He's been kissed before, even he remembers that. But never while having a gun held to his head, never by a guy, never by _Steve_ ,and it's perfect and horrible at the same time. Perfect because Bucky has been thinking about this _forever_ —and horrible because Steve just had to do this _now_ , when he doesn't have to explain why, didn't he?

 _Forget what, exactly, Steve?_ Bucky thinks, and then lets himself enjoy it.

After a second or two, Steve pulls away to look at him, mouth quirked into half a smile and Bucky might actually rather take his chances with the gun than let Steve forget doing this.

"Wait," he breathes, "Steve, wait—"

"Sorry," Steve says, not looking sorry at all, and eliminates Bucky's choice for him by grasping Eric's hand.

Bucky can tell the moment Eric takes action—Steve's eyes go wide, then hazy and as much as Bucky would like to do something, _anything_ , he's still frozen and helpless and he doesn't want to watch himself be erased from Steve's mind and so he shuts his eyes, flinching with the remembered pain of the mind wipe.

He hopes to God that Steve isn't suffering like he did.

The gun is eventually withdrawn from his head, and so Bucky opens his eyes and turns his head to see Eric releasing Steve's hand. As soon as he lets go, Steve crumples to the floor and Eric dusts off his hands.

"Yes, that does happen sometimes," he says to Bucky. "He will be fine in a few hours, Sergeant Barnes."

"I'm going to kill you."

The tone that leaves his mouth belongs more to The Asset than to Bucky Barnes, but he finds he doesn't care. This man deserves to die, and if the Winter Soldier can do the job better than Bucky Barnes? So be it. He's been holding himself back for a long time and Eric Carson just cut the tie to his morals.

Eric laughs a little, picking up his lantern and walking towards the door. "Not today, I'm afraid. I'm sure we'll meet again, though." He turns and salutes and Bucky notices that the wild hunger is gone from his eyes. "All these happy memories… his devotion to you was quite remarkable. I almost regret taking him from you."

"Then give him back," Bucky snaps, but the Memory Thief shakes his head, smiling, and disappears through the door, leaving Bucky frozen beside the shell of his best friend and the memory of Steve's lips on his.

 

* * *

 

"He's awake."

Bucky looks up from where he's been pacing a hole in Stark's expensive carpet to see Banner in the doorway. His stomach is in knots, as it has been ever since the Avengers returned to the tower four hours ago. The paralysis wore off before they even left Florida, but it's taken a little longer for Steve to recover. It's exhausting, Stark says, having all your good memories erased from your brain. Bucky could have told him that. He swallows hard and asks the question that's been on his mind since the Avengers found them in that warehouse.

"What does he remember?"

"What we expected," Banner says. "He knows what year he's in, he remembers bits and pieces about being Captain America, and he remembers a lot of the war, but certain people, certain things—it's like they never existed for him at all."

Bucky can read between the lines. Steve doesn't remember him. He had been hoping that Steve might remember pieces of him—his time as the Winter Soldier was not a happy memory for anyone involved—but Bucky knows that even when Steve didn't like him, he still loved him, and maybe that was all the Memory Thief needed. He sighs.

"And the Avengers, does he remember you?"

"Some of us more than others," Banner admits. "He remembers Tony more than anyone else, but he hardly knew Natasha at all."

Bucky's lips twitch in spite of himself. "Bet Stark took that well."

Banner casts a glance back out of the room. "I don't think he knows whether to be proud or insulted," he says dryly. Considering what Bucky knows about Stark, he's probably both.

He clears his throat a little, straightening up. "I want to see him," he tells Banner, who twists his hands together like he always does when he's nervous.

"He doesn't remember you," he warns. "Are you sure you're ready to deal with that?"

No _._ "Yeah." Bucky shrugs. "Steve managed it okay when it was me. I guess it's my turn."

"Okay," Banner says, clearly bracing himself for the worst. "This way, then."

Bucky tries to prepare himself as they walk down the hall to the medbay, but it's useless. He doesn't know what to expect, has never experienced a world where Steve hasn't known who he was. And then there's the fact that all Steve's loyalty and kindness towards him was based on their friendship before the Winter Soldier, before Captain America. What if this new Steve doesn't want anything to do with him? What will Bucky do then?

Banner opens a door in the medbay and sticks his head into the room. "Captain, Sergeant Barnes would like to see you, if that's alright."

"Yeah, that's fine," says Steve, sounding tired, and Bucky forces his legs to keep moving, past Banner and into the room, where Steve is sitting on the edge of an examination table.

Bucky remembers the first time he encountered Steve as the Winter Soldier. Washington D.C., April 2014. Steve had been a target then, another person to add to his list of kills, and Bucky had looked him in the eye on a road in the city and felt nothing. Not love, not hate, not a thing. _"Who the hell is Bucky?"_ he'd asked, and watched the shattered expression cross Captain America's face. Later, even after he'd regained some of his memories, he couldn't quite understand how Steve had felt that day. Couldn't understand that level of devastation.

It's August 2015, and when Steve looks up at him with a blank expression, Bucky finally understands.

There's nothing quite like seeing that the only person in the world who truly knew you can no longer recognize your face.

"Good to meet you, Sergeant Barnes," says Steve, who has never called him that a day in his life, and Bucky hates the way his formal title sounds on Steve's tongue. Steve then frowns. "Well, maybe _meet_ is the wrong word. They told me we were friends."

Bucky is feeling oddly detached from reality, and that might be the only thing keeping him together. "Yeah, friends," he croaks. "You saved my life. I'd thank you for that, but honestly, your methods could use some work."

Methods, of course, include kissing Bucky without ever planning on telling him why, but of course, Steve doesn't know that. Not anymore.

Steve smiles a little, but it's not the one Bucky is used to seeing on him. He knows how Steve is feeling, knows what it’s like to not have a single good memory in your head, but to see him looking like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders…

Damn Steve for making that deal.

"I've already gotten an earful from Tony about that," Steve says, and Bucky is definitely not jealous that Stark gets to be 'Tony' and he gets to be 'Sergeant Barnes'. This not-jealousy recedes a little when Steve adds, "I think I had a good reason for doing it, though."

 _Not good enough,_ Bucky doesn't say. He stares down at the floor in lieu of responding and when he glances back up, Steve is looking at him thoughtfully.

"You do look kind of familiar," he says. Bucky's shaking his head before he's even finished the sentence.

"Don't—you don't have to do that," he says, quietly. "I know you don't remember. It's okay."

It's not okay. But Steve no longer knows him well enough to tell that he's lying.

Steve stands. "I think I do remember you, though," he says, brows furrowed. "You were wearing blue and it was cold—I think we were in the mountains." His eyes take on a faraway gaze. "There was a train."

_An explosion. Steve's voice is almost lost in the howling wind._

_"Grab my hand!"_

_A crack. The bar is breaking away. A desperate cry._

_"No!"_

_The bar tears away from the train and then he's falling, falling, falling to an ice-cold grave…_

Bucky jolts back to reality to find himself face to face with Steve's worried expression.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks and Bucky doesn't even know the answer to that because everything is still so wrong, but Steve _remembers_ something.

"You jerk," he says hoarsely, his head spinning. "Out of all the things you could have remembered, it just _had_ to be that."

Steve smiles, confused. "So it was a memory," he says. "Maybe you could tell me a little more about what happened, then. I don't think I have the whole thing."

Bucky and Steve have never talked about that day on the train. Steve has never wanted to, and Bucky's memories of it all are still so fragmented. Before, they had both silently accepted that this was one of those things that would stay in the past.

It seems like there was a lot they never talked about. Things between them that shouldn't have stayed unshared.

And now…

Bucky just can't accept that Steve's happy memories are gone for good. If he could overcome a mind-wipe, so can Steve. There's got to be a way.

Maybe there are more memories. Maybe they just need to find them, one by one. Maybe Bucky can do for Steve what Steve once did for Bucky and bring him back.

_"You've gotta remember for both of us. From now on, that's on you."_

_Yeah_ , Bucky thinks, _alright._

He takes a deep breath and looks Steve in the eye. "What do you wanna know?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> So. I don't know if I'm gonna make this a series or just leave it like it is and let you guys imagine what happens next. We'll see. Anyway, I hope you liked it. :)


End file.
